Angel In Hell
by Pasque
Summary: EC. Years after the fall of the opera house Erik chances upon Christine Daae, but finds her much changed. No time to come to terms with this though.... something wicked this way comes. DARK FIC.


Hi everyone, I haven't decided to abandon Save Me From My Solitude but I am feeling the urge to write this story that's been swirling in my mind for some time now, so for the moment this is my priority. This is going to be a much darker fic, again based on a mish mash of Kay, Leroux, movie and musical. E/C forever! Lil bit of Raoul bashing. (I just can't help myself) I really would love your feedback, comments, reviews whatever you want to call it. Enjoy!

p.s. Should the course of history be altered in this fic then I'm afraid you'll just have to deal with it…for example, should Elvis appear then in this universe Elvis was a 19th century dude, ok? (He's not in it btw, lol).

Chapter 1

Paris at 3am is much like any other city. The avenues full of grand houses, each a great feat of architecture lay silent, dormant, the smug occupants fast asleep inside lulled by rich food and heady wine. And whilst the bourgeois slumber, safe in the knowledge of the existence of their family fortune, 20 servants, 12 horses and 2 carriages, the slums spring to life. The filth in the thin cobbled streets is trampled in by the feet of drunkards, murderers, thieves and whores, all worming their way through the underbelly of France.

Raucous laugher, muffled cries of fear or pain and moans of pleasure mingled in the air as a tall, languid figure leaned carelessly against the wall.

"Want some comp'ny?" a girl with a mass of red hair knotted upon her head smiled a lurid, red painted smile. She waited expectantly for an answer, but the figure didn't move.

"Sir?"

The man raised his gaze to the girl and stepped into the light. For the first time she saw him. A top hat rested upon a shock of thick black hair, he wore a full evening dress suit complemented by a blood red cravat and waistcoat which she saw matched exactly the lining of his cloak.

Hurriedly she tried to retract her offer, obviously she had stumbled upon some aristocrat, some man far too important to be concerned with the likes of her. After all, the aristocracy had no whores, only mistresses. "Beggin' yer pardon Sir, I thought you was someone else yer see?"

"Perhaps you would care to accompany me?" His voice was deep and richer than the finest chocolate.

She was taken aback, "Well, yeah. Right then Sir, follow me" She enthusiastically took the arm he offered. Any man with a top hat was bound to have plenty to offer for her services. Maybe after him she would be able to afford a room for the night, she could leave the streets early and put her feet up. Better yet, perhaps pop to the tavern for a quick drink first!

Through the labyrinth of side streets and back alleys she led him. She knew a spot, a nice quiet place, can't expect a real gentleman like this to do it in full view in the street! A dead end. He followed behind her at a distance. The high walls of shops surrounded them on three sides, completely secluded. It had rained earlier that day and puddles of mud were left on the ground. Carefully she picked up her skirts, her dress was in tatters but she had always tried to keep it clean. She was no dirty, filthy woman like some that she knew, never bathing, sleeping in the muck… none of that for her. Besides, it was what the customers preferred.

"Well, 'ere we are Sir." She turned to face him. It was as she turned that she saw the flash of silver in the air. At first she wondered what on earth it was. What gleam had just passed right in front of her face like lightening? She tried to work it out but suddenly she felt light headed, her throat was stinging. She outstretched her hands as she stumbled, feeling had left her body and her soul had already departed by the time her head fell back and her body fell to the ground revealing the gash in her throat and the severed stump of her windpipe.

The arterial spray had speckled his suit; luckily it was unnoticeable upon the black material and indistinguishable from the red. His face, however, was covered, taking a handkerchief he wiped his cheeks and nose free from blood and bent to tenderly wipe away the small sprinkling that marred her otherwise peaceful face. He smiled in approval of her choice of location. It really was perfect, most secluded, exactly what he needed. Carefully he knelt besides her body and unlocked the case he always carried with him.

From it he selected a scalpel.

SORRY! I know it was short. Also… how many of you though it was Erik at first? I figure a lot of you will guess who it is, its pretty obvious. Anyway, sorry for the lack of E/C but I promise they'll arrive in the next chapter. Please review guys!

Love Pasque

XXX


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